Once when my brother Mike, cousin Joe and myself were helping clear a five acre lot for my Uncle Vernon, we kinda deviated from the task so to speak…or rather started playing instead of working. Depends on how you wanted to look at it. We found a ditch surrounded by trees with rather strong vines coming from them. As any young teenager, true blooded, Tarzan loving movie fan would in a case like this, we began swinging from the vines.
Now my brother had a mind of his own and would never take my advice or even listen to anything I’d say. But that day and probably only that day he did.
As we were taking turns swinging across the ditch and dropping from the vine onto the other side. It became Mike’s turn. As he leaned hard back to get the most out of the swing, I noticed something move on the other side. He drew back and released full energy into the arc, giving the proper Tarzan yell as he flew through the air.
Then just as he let go to sail into a hard standing, full stop, no bounce landing. I realized what I had noticed moving on the other side. It was a SNAKE! and not just a snake, but a four to five foot, now coiling, fully poisonous Rattlesnake. I shouted with fear in my voice and to the top of my lungs, “Mike, don’t move,” as he landed about two feet from the deadly reptile.
For once in his life he froze in full position, not moving, realizing only after the hard, jarring and suddenly motionless landing the reason for freezing. As the rattlers sang their deadly tune, he continued to remain motionless, now with beads of sweat and fear running down his face.
With a sudden burst of adrenaline kicking in, Joe and I ran to the other side of the ditch, grabbing a hoe that we should have been using to clear the area. Reaching the other side, we slowed to barely a forward movement, fearing the rattler turning on us. It seemed an eternity as we three stared down at the deadly terror, inching closer and closer until we were within reach of the hoe handle.
Slowly lifting the hoe above my head and taking deadly aim, I prepared to strike in advance of the rattler striking first. Apparently noting our presence, it turned its threatening head in my direction. Now giving me the perfect target, it was time. I brought the head of the hoe down toward the rattler’s head with as much force as I possibly could, slamming the slightly dull edge just behind its deadly head. Then I repeated the action several times for effect.
Snake dead, danger averted, play time over. A little shaky and very much more careful and observant of our surroundings, we went back to work.
I’ve often wondered why Mike listened to me that day and can only guess it was the frightened desperate tone of my voice…Danger Mike Parker.